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I pinch his wrist. His grip loosens, and I pull the pistol free.
My tears mix with the water as my air runs out. I turn the gun on Trey as my chest feels like it’s going to cave in on itself, and as I meet Trey’s now-fearful stare, I fire the gun until it won’t fire anymore.
He tries to say something, but nothing leaves his parted lips. I hold his gaze, watching the animation fade from his eyes before he sinks, deeper and deeper below.
My lungs are burning. I look up and see a spot in the ice where it looks brighter than the surrounding area, and I swim toward it. My body is completely numb. I can’t even feel the cold anymore as I near the ice.
Breaking the surface of the water, I gasp for air and throw my arms onto the snowy ice.
How in the hell am I going to get out of here?
When I brace my weight on my arms, the ice breaks more, plunging me back into the cold.
Shit.
Looking around, I see Susan’s house and remember a story she once told me. How she got out of the broken ice when she was younger. Closing my eyes, I calm my mind and my breathing, trying not to panic. And I follow the same steps she did.
Placing my arms on the ice, I fill my lungs and lift my legs up until I’m almost horizontal with the ice. With all of my remaining energy, I kick with my legs in short and fast movements. Propelling myself further onto the ice, I kick harder until my knees are out of the water.
Taking a deep breath, I hold it and carefully roll away toward Susan’s until I’m a good ten feet away from the hole. Gently, I rise to my feet and take light steps, carefully making my way toward her house.
My hands and body are shaking so horribly. I didn’t even realize it until right now. My steps slow, and my legs quiver as I near the edge of the lake.
Almost there.
But as my foot takes my next step, my knee buckles, and I fall to the solid ice, my eyes fluttering shut. I’m exhausted. I just need to rest for a second before continuing. Then, I can get to her house, and she’ll get help.
But when my head touches down on the ice, everything goes black.
25
Cam
My head is pounding as I come to. Touching the back of my head, I wince as my fingers smear something wet. Pulling my hand back, I see blood.
What happen—
Trey.
I need to find Morgan.
Pushing myself up, I slam my eyes shut as blood rushes to my head, and excruciating pain squeezes my skull. That piece of shit must’ve knocked me out, hit me with something.
Bracing myself on the door outside of the restroom, I shout, “Morgan!”
My ears are ringing, but I shout again, “Morgan!”
No answer.
I race to where our camp was set up, but no one’s here.
No. Fuck. Please don’t tell me she’s gone. That he got her. That I couldn’t save her, save someone I love—again.
Flying down the hall, I race to the front doors and see a red pickup parked out front. That must be his. Which means they are still here. The door is ajar, but no one’s in sight.
Pushing the door open, I spot the footsteps leading to the truck and the area where she must have fought to not get inside—snow is matted down all over.
“Where are you, Little Dove?” I whisper as my heart pounds against my rib cage.
